My Relationship with George Harrison
by TheBeatles4evah
Summary: Johanna 'Joe' Smith wasn't the biggest fan of the Beatles in 1963 London. In fact, she didn't even have crushes on any of them. But after a chance meeting on a train, her view of them will change. Will it be for better or for worst?
1. A Chance Meeting

"My dad just got us a T.V.," Jane said this with pure joy on her face. "Now I can watch them in at my house!"

"That's nice," is all I say.

The people that Jane wants to watch in her home are The Beatles. There this band that got discovered, like, last year (This year, by the way, is 1963). Jane is obsessed with them. She especially loves Paul McCartney. Me (name's Johanna, or Joe), I think that the foursome are okay, but I'm not a crazed fan unlike every other girl in the world. I like their music, but I'm not in love with any of them. Jane knows this, but that doesn't stop her from asking me which one I love the most twenty times a day.

"Joe, you have to tell me which one you love!"

See what I mean! "Well…"

Then, the bell that dismisses us from class goes off like crazy. Jane and I rush out the front doors with about 200 other kids wanting to go home for the long weekend. In fact, school will be out for a week! I think school's out that long only for the senior year kids, who will be graduating in a month. Since Jane and I are in that class, we're also get a week off. As we walk out the door, that's when she hits me with the same question, _again._

"Joe…, you never answered me," Jane slightly punches my arm. "Who's your favorite?"

"Jane, you know I don't like any of them."

Just 10 seconds later, we're at the one of the many crossroads of London, where Jane and I must part.

"Call me on your trip?" she asks.

"Of course, Jane."

Usually, when our school is out for so long, I spend the whole time with Jane. But no, my parents are sending me to a town in the middle of nowhere to find a job. On the upside though, they finally trust me enough for me to call them when I find work, which they probably think is never.

"Bye," Jane waves as she is walking away.

"See ya."

As I walk down the street, I think, _and my incredible journey to nowhereville begin._

**The next day…**

I'm at the train station, looking for platform 15, where the train will take me away to find work. I have my suitcase filled with clothes, a hairbrush, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and whatever else my brother threw in before I left as a joke.

I look around, then I notice that there are at least a million girls running around like cartoon characters. A lot of them are wearing Beatles stuff, and that's when it hits me. _They're here._ I move quickly, just in case the girls run over me after they spot John, or Ringo, or someone.

I find my train, and I get on it a minute before it leaves. I find a car, where I sit down and decide to look around the train a bit.

I walk down the halls, where I find the dining car. I get a cup of tea (classy, isn't it?), and drink it while I read the front page news from the newspaper that's being read by a man across from me. After I finish the page, then head back to my car.

While walking, I look out the windows and see the outside, where there is just a blur of green, brown, and the occasional yellow or red. The only thing that is not blurry is the sky, which is a cloudless blue. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen…

Then, either someone crashes into me, or I crash into them. We both fall over; I look at the person, who turns out to be a man about 20 or so, and he looks at me. "Oh," he says (his accent is similar to mine. He's probably from southern London). "I'm sorry 'bout that. I wasn't paying attention."

He gets up and brushes off, and then he holds out his hand to help me up, which I take hold of and stand up. "Don't worry about it," I respond. "I wasn't paying attention either."

I suddenly realize that this man looks extremely familiar. Have I met him before? Did I see him on T.V.? I feel as though his name is on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't place it. "Have we met before?" I ask. "You seem very familiar."

He shrugs, "I get that a lot."

"Well, it is very nice to meet you," I hold out my hand. "I'm Johanna Smith, call me Joe."

He takes my hand and shakes it. "It's very nice to meet you Joe, I'm George Harrison, please call me George."

The name that he claims to be his shocks me. Then I realize it's the truth. Here I am, talking to a Beatle, and I think that I am maybe going crazy. I bite my tongue. Say something Joe! "Nice to meet you George."

We go around each other, and then we begin to go in opposite directions, when he calls to me, "Joe, wait a sec."

I turn around, and he walks up to me and says "Well…Uh…are you doing anything later?"

"No."

"What stop are you getting off at?"

"Last one."

"Same here. Well…I was wondering…I know we just, but…"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to go somewhere with me?"

This question completely catches me off guard, and I try to think of something to say, but then I realize that my mouth has a mind of its own.

"Sure."

George smiles, "'Kay, I'll meet with you at the platform of the last stop; but it's a small train, we may run into each other again. Bye."

"See you soon."

We actually part this time, and my head is swimming. A Beatle just asked me if I wanted to go on a date with him. What would Jane do in this situation? I know to answer to this question; she would say yes, then she would scream her head off, and then call me. Actually, if she saw a Beatle, they wouldn't get the chance to ask her because she would be chasing them like a tiger.

But I wasn't Jane. I didn't scream my head off or anything. In fact, I had no idea that he was George Harrison before he told me.

By the time I got to my car, what just happened to me was clear. I had a date with George Harrison.

**I hoped you liked reading this!**

**This was my first story, so I'm open to any ideas or suggestions that you readers will offer to me.**

**I hope to update the next chapter in a few days, so please be patient.**

**-TheBeatles4evah**


	2. A Night in the Town

It took another hour or so to reach the last station. It probably took a lot longer, but I was deep in thought. The whole George Harrison thing had to be a big joke. There's no way it could happen. But let's face it, it did happen. But it probably was still a joke. I still was going to see if he really was going to meet me.

When the train reached the last stop, I got my thing together as quickly as possible and got off the train at the nearest exit. I stepped onto the platform and looked to my right and then my left. I didn't see him, and so began the thoughts that this whole shindig was a joke.

I waited a few more minutes, and then I decided that this whole thing was a joke. I figured I should just leave and it would all be over, so I took one step forward…and that's when I saw him running to me out of the corner of my eye. Actually, he is wearing a different outfit from before; a long overcoat, a hat, and some sunglasses. Well, he is famous, so I guess he has to dress this way in public to stop girls from running him over until he becomes a pancake.

"Hey, am I late?" he is slightly smiling when he says this, so I decide to play along.

"No, you're just in time."

"Then shall we be off?"

He gestures to me to begin walking. I go forward, and then he is at my other side, walking next to me. We go up the stairs to the town/village/suburb above, and for the first time I realize that it has just become dark. I must have not noticed the sun setting on the train, which is unusual for me because every night since I was 14, I would sit down and wait hours for the sun to set. It was probably the first time in four years that I missed the sunset.

I decide to start a conversation, "So…have you ever been here before."

"First time, actually."

From there, the conversation gets better and better. We talk about our hobbies, our talents, and then we get to the subject of friends. He talks about the other members of the band and about some other friends of his. I talk about my friends from camp and other places.

Then I talk about Jane. I tell George all about how much she loves The Beatles, and this gets George to crack up laughing.

"She especially favors Paul," I say.

After I say that, he laughs even more, which causes me to also start laughing a little. "Hey," he begins. "Give me her number, maybe I can set them up!"

Okay, this gets both him and me to go into a long phase of hysterical laughter. After a bit, we are still slightly laughing, but we probably read each other's minds, which would explain why we both start walking at the same time.

I spot a park, and I pull his arm to get his attention. He looks at me and I point to the park. A grin rises across his face, and then we both begin running to the park. We are at the entrance in seconds, so we begin walking down the path.

**A few hours later…**

The sky is completely dark and the town around us is lit up to look like a party is happening in every single building. George and I don't really care though, because we have basically spent the last three hours talking and walking in the park and around town.

We figure it must be late, so we decide to ask someone for the time. A man in a coat and tie walks past us, and that's when George hits the guy with the question, "Hey mate, do ya know the time?"

"Oh yeah," he pulls up his sleeve and looks at his watch. "It's almost one."

"Thanks."

The man nods his head in return and then walks away. I realize that we've been talking for more than three hours, but for like six or seven. "Well," George begins. "Shall I take you to where you're staying?"

"I would like that, except I don't know where I'm staying."

George stops and thinks for a second. "Well in that case, why don't I check you into the same horrible motel that Eppy is sticking me and the mates in."

This statement confuses me. One because I wonder why the incredibly famous Beatles are staying in a 'horrible motel', and two because I have no idea who the heck Eppy is. "And where would this motel be?"

"Somewhere in this town; I think its a few blocks away."

"Then let's go."

We continue to walk in the town; up three blocks, turning to the left and going three more blocks, and then turn right and walk five blocks before we decide that we are completely lost. Luckily, we see a post office (how often does that happen when you're lost in a strange neighborhood?) We find a stack of maps on a table, and it only takes George a matter of seconds before he finds where we need to go. Unfortunately, we have absolutely no idea where we are, so I ask a lady who is trying to figure out how many stamps she needs where we are.

After she tells me, I lead George out of the post office, and then I take him down a block, then we turn left and pass three buildings before we find the place. It's not hard to find the check-in office (there was this huge sign), where we manage to get me a room. "By the way," he says to the front desk attendant. "Which rooms did my mates get?"

"Oh," he checks a book that's on his desk. "They are in…rooms 215 and 216."

"Thanks."

We leave the office, and it occurs to me that our rooms are very close to each other. Them in 215 and 216, and me in 211. I wonder if this is coincidence, random, or specifically planned by the guy at the front desk.

The 200 rooms are on the second floor, so we assume that the first thing that we need to do is to find a staircase. We see a few, one near the office, and another about thirty feet away from that one. As we walk to the closer staircase, I notice the order of numbers; 134, 133, 132, etc, etc. George must notice the order too, because just as we reach the first staircase, he stops and asks, "Can we take the long way?"

I laugh a little. "Of course we can."

He smiles, and we begin to head toward the far staircase. I don't keep track of how long it takes before we reach the steps, because we are talking the whole way. We climb the stairs to the second floor, and then it doesn't take long to find my room. He comes inside with me, probably so he can get a basic idea of what his room would look like.

In the first room there is a small T.V. set, couch and small table. There is a two foot long hallway that on the left leads to a bathroom and closet, while on the right side is a bedroom where I put my suitcase on the bed, to unpack later. After the 'grand tour', we walk up to the door to my room.

"Well," I try to think of the right words to say. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, but before that…how 'bout you meet my friends."

"I think I might like that."

George opens the door, so I exit first, with him right behind me. We only walk past four or five other doors before we reach 216. George walks up and knocks on the door. From inside the room, somebody shouts, "Look! I don't want room service this late!"

"Relax, John," George says back. "It's just me."

John? Probably John Lennon, another band member. But why is he up so late? I hear footsteps coming towards the door, then a sound of a lock clicking, and then the door swings open. "George, where the heck have you been? Eppy has seriously lost his mind. Why didn't you…"

Then he notices me. He looks at me, starting with my head then going to my feet, then back to head. He calms down by an extremely noticeable amount, then he turns to George, "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is Johanna. Please call her Joe."

I hold out my hand and say, "It's very nice to meet you."

He takes my hand and shakes it. "The pleasure is mine. Names John."

A small grin creeps across his face. "Well, I suppose I'll call Eppy and tell him you've arrived. By the way, George, you get to share a room with yours truly."

"Can't wait."

John walks into his room and shuts the door, but I don't hear the lock click, meaning he is giving us some privacy. But he is also making sure George can get in when he decides to come in. "Well," he begins. "Shall I walk you to your room?"

I smile, "You shall."

We walk back to 211, and when we get there, the awkward goodbyes begin. Jane is always talking about how whenever her boyfriend takes her home, they have no idea what to say when they reach her door. Right now is like those times in way, because at first we don't say anything, but that only lasts, like, 12 seconds, then we read each other's minds again, and we begin to say goodbye.

He starts, "Well, I will see you tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it."

We both smile, then I go into my room as he walks away. I throw my suitcase on the ground and basically collapse onto the bed. As I lie there, I realize how tried I am. As I begin to fall asleep, I remember the reason I'm in this town, the reason why I got to meet George. But, I couldn't meet the propose for these reasons.

I have no job.

**I hope you liked it!**

**Just so you readers know, Eppy is the nickname that the Beatle members gave to Brian Epstein. **

**Please keep giving me reviews. They really inspire me. I hope to update the next chapter in the next few days. I hope you'll read it when I update it.**


	3. The Recording Studio

I woke up early the next morning, which I thought was weird because I went to sleep so late the night before. I sat up in the motel's surprisingly good bed, trying to figure out what to do next. Sure, I just met John Lennon and had gone on a date (I think) with George Harrison, but I had no job, which meant I had hardly any money to pass me by. I had already paid the amount of money for the room, and I had a pre-bought ticket for a ride home at the end of the week.

I got out of bed, when I noticed my packed suitcase I realized I never unpacked it. As I started to unpack, I thought about calling Jane and telling her about what I did the night before. Here's how the conversation went in my head;

"_So Joe, how was the ride over?"_

"_Oh, it was fine, Jane. On the way over I ran into George Harrison…"_

"_WHAT? YOU MET GEORGE HARRISON?"_

"_Uh, Jane, I was still talking…"_

"_Wait a minute, THE George Harrison?"_

"_Yes, Jane, but…"_

"_OH MY GOD! Why didn't you call me right after you got off the train? I mean…"_

I did not what to start my day with Jane screaming in my ear.

I looked at the clock. 7:03 in the morning. I remembered what George had said last night, "See you tomorrow."

That sentence meant the one of three things:

He was going to see me today.

He wanted to see me today, but he might not.

He was joking around and wasn't going to see me today.

I hoped that he meant option #1, so I would be able to see him again today. I figured I should set something to eat, so I threw on some clothes (well, you know what I mean) and left the room.

I looked at the view from the second floor balcony, and may I say, it was horrible. All I saw was the back of a red brick building, the rest of the motel, and the street that was next to the motel. George was right, this was a terrible motel.

I spotted the place that the motel must call the place that everyone eats in. I walked down the balcony and down the stairs that lead to the café/diner/some other eating place. I opened the door to the joint; I saw that it was like a school cafeteria, where you could choose your food, put it on a tray, and pay the cashier at the end of the booths. I wasn't very hungry, and I wanted to save money, so I just grabbed some pieces of toast and orange juice. After I paid the cashier women the money (very cheap breakfast, by the way), I sat down at a table that was toward the left side of the place. I was about 3/5 of the way done with one piece of toast when John walked over (you know, the John I met last night), "'Ello, Joe."

"Hi John."

"So, how the life of George's lady-friend?" He smiled after he asked me, so I wasn't sure if the question was a joke or not.

But still, all I did with George last night was talk with him, so I have no idea why John called me George's 'lady-friend'. "It's going good."

"So, I bet you want to see 'im again today, eh?"

"It would be nice."

"Well, good, because he slept late this morning, so I ditched 'im in our room, so as soon as he wakes up he'll assume I went here, so he'll rush down and find me and start yelling at me, then he'll notice you, and his attitude will quickly change."

Then, George ran in. "John! Why the heck did you not wake me…," then he looked up and saw me. "Oh, hello Joe."

"Good morning, George."

Okay, either John knew George very well or he was psychic. He looked at me and smiled like he knew what I was thinking.

"So…what are you guys doing today?" Yeah, that's right, I sparkled up the conversation with one of the easiest questions in the book on conversations (Is there such a thing?).

John answered before George got a chance, "We're going to record some song for our new record with Paul an' Ringo."

"Would you like to come see the studio?" asked George.

"Sure, but would the others mind?"

"Oh, no," George assured me. "They'll be okay with it."

Would they be okay with it? John seemed pretty okay about me last night, so the others couldn't hate the idea that much.

So, right then and there we left the café-place and called a taxi, which wasn't too hard considering the street next to the motel. I had no idea where we were going, and I think George also had no idea. John knew exactly where to go, so he told the cab driver, "88 Bertha Street."

"All right," the cab driver responded.

After that we drove straight, made a left, another left and a right, two rights and a left. I'm beginning to think that we could have gone straight and make one or two turns. But we arrived to the studio after ten minutes or so. The whole time George and I were talking, with John making an occasional comment.

We exited the taxi and while John paid the guy, I got a good look at the building. It looked like all the other buildings in town. Two or three floors, windows, fire escape, and ivy growing on the side of the building.

"Well," John walked up. "Shall we go in?"

We walked through the front door, where John walked up to the front desk. The lady on the other side of the desk pointed to the left, where there was a long hallway with about a billion doors (okay, maybe it was like twelve) on each side. John led George and me to the fifth door down on the left side of the hall. We stopped right before we reached the door, someone was shouting so loud that I could hear him perfectly.

"Where the heck are George and John?"

"Relax, they'll be here soon."

I didn't recognize either of the voices. John then turned the handle and slammed the door open, "Sooner than you think, Paulie."

"John! Where is George?"

George walked in, pulling me along behind him. "Don't worry Eppy, I'm right here."

"George! Disappearing last night is one thing, but coming in late, what is wrong with you? Come on, you need to be more professional…"

While he was droning on, and on, I saw the two people that were probably "Eppy" and Ringo. Paul was also in the room, and I recognized him right away because Jane has shown me his picture at least a thousand times. Ringo was also pretty easily to spot; only because Jane is convinced that he has a huge nose (It's not that big, by the way). By process of elimination, the last person in the room (and the one that was screaming his head off a George) must be Eppy.

Paul noticed me after Eppy started yelling at George. Ringo was right next to him, and was also paying very close attention to what Eppy was saying to George, so Paul elbowed him in the upper arm. He looked at Paul with this plastered all over his expression; _What did you do that for?_ Paul nodded his head in my direction, and Ringo looked and saw me. They started to stare at me, so I smiled at them. Paul must have wanted to know who I was, because he asked, "George, who's your friend?"

Eppy stopped yelling, and for the first time, noticed me. "Yes, George, who is your friend?"

John stepped forward, "That is Joe, George's lady-friend."

I'm pretty sure George blushed after he heard what John said, "You be quiet, John."

Paul stepped forward and held out his hand, "Nice to meet you, Joe. I'm Paul McCartney."

"Nice to meet you," I took his hand and shook it.

Ringo walked up next, "'Ello, I'm Ringo Starr."

"Nice to meet you, too."

So far, Eppy was the only one that looked like I was a hazard to his health. George walked up to him, patted his back, looked at me and said, "This is our manager, Brian Epstein. We call him Eppy."

"Hello, Brian," Yes, that's all I said to him.

John spoke up, "Well, we should get recording, now shouldn't we?"

Brian looked at John, "Yes, yes you should."

Apparently, there was another room in the room that we were already in, so George, John, Ringo, and Paul walked into the other room, but we could see them because there was this huge window that we could see them through. Brian led me to a chair near the window and behind a bunch of high-tech. machines that were used in recording sessions.

The Beatles were standing/sitting with their guitars (in Ringo's case, drums), then two people walked in and sat at the machines. One of them spoke into a microphone, "All My Loving, take one."

Then they started playing and singing a song, with Paul on lead vocals. _"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you. Tomorrow I'll miss you, remember I'll always be true…"_

The song was amazing. I watched them play their instruments, and I also watch what the guys were doing with the machines. I always was interested with machinery and technology and stuff.

The song was done in about 2 or 3 minutes. After that, the guy spoke into the microphone again, "Sorry, boys, but recording switch B is malfunctioning, so wait a bit, then you'll do it again."

John looked at the guy through the window, "Well, that's not good, now is it."

Meanwhile, the guys at the machines were trying to figure out the problem, so I thought I would help them figure out a solution. "Try reconnecting the wires in the back."

One of them looked at me, "Look, it's not that simple…"

While guy 1 was talking to me about the complications of a box, guy 2 decided to try my idea. He fumbled with the wires, and then said, "She was right you know."

Guy 1 looked at Guy 2 and then at me, looked at the machine, then looked at me again, "How did you know what to do?"

"I like technology and things."

"Well, you could probably help us with the equipment, as a small job, of course."

"I'm only in town until next Sunday."

"Don't worry, we'll still pay you," he smiled at me.

"Okay then." I said.

Yes! I had a job!

**Sorry it took so long to update, I was really busy the past week. **

**But, I hope to get my next update out in a ****lot**** less time than it took to get this one out. **

**Note: I have no idea how recording equipment works, so anything that I'll mention about the equipment is made up (with reason, at least). **


	4. Dear Readers

I'm so sorry that I'm not updating this story as much as I would like to.

I'm not sure if I'll continue to write this story, but I'll try (don't expect anything, thought). The problem is I'm not feeling the plot, characters, or anything in my story for that matter.

I know that some of you liked this story, and again, I'm sorry that I haven't been updating.

Thank you readers for your support. But I will write different stories, so keep looking.


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